One Voice
by Herenya Brandybuck
Summary: The ents are threatened by evil forces. Can the courage of one girl, whom no one believes in, save the entire population of Fangorn? I know it sounds awful, but I'm horrible at summaries.
1. Fireside Tales

Chapter 1  
Fireside Tales

The old man's voice was hushed as he spoke in whispers to the group of children at his feet. They sat mesmerized as the he told of wonders and impossibilities of another lifetime, as they did often in the evenings. The old man, who lived in a hut near the outskirts of a village near Rohan, opened his home in the evenings to the village children. The firelight flickered low as he was nearing the end of his storytelling. At the present he was telling of trees that moved and spoke like human beings, which he called _ents. _"And if ye didn't watch yer step," he looked around the hut for effect, "they could reach out—and GRAB YE!" The children jumped back and gasped.

One little boy spoke up in a shaky voice. "They-they don't still exist…do they?"

The old man leaned back and nodded. "That they could, young one. That they could." At this the children fidgeted and whispered to themselves as the old man chuckled. "If ye be real careful and quiet and don't go nowhere without yer mammys, and by all means stay outta the woods, I think ye might be safe. But if ye don't…" His voice trailed off and none of the children wanted to know what would happen.

But one little girl about ten years old scoffed. "_I_ don't believe the story," she stated boldly.

The old man was surprised. Usually all the children believed the stories religiously. He shrugged. "You cin believe 'em, er you cin not. 'Sup to you. But I'm warnin' ye…" Again he trailed off. The children squirmed uneasily as the old man leaned back in his chair and lit his corncob pipe, which meant that he was through and they could go home. The children shuffled out the door and towards their homes by the flickering firelight that came streaming out of windows, some glancing fearfully at the pitch-black of the night-filled woods that weren't too far away while some walked just a little faster than usual towards their house.

The little girl that had spoken up earlier, however, held her head up and walked slowly to her house just to prove she wasn't bothered by the story. Her name was Arrell, and she was a small thing with long blond hair and big blue eyes.

"Hey Arrell, I bet that story did scare you!" One little boy about her age sneered. "That's why you said you didn't believe it!"

"You just be quiet, Eredor! You're just scared yourself!" She shouted back at him.

"I'm not! You're chicken! You're—" He was cut off by a flying tackle by the little girl. She pinned him on the ground and was delivering repeated blows to his face when she felt firm hands pull her off the boy. She turned around to see the stern face of her older brother, Estor, staring reproachfully down at her.

"Arrell," he intoned disapprovingly, the controlled calm in his voice about to give way to disciplinary rage.

She jerked away and brushed her now-tangled hair out of her face. "He called me chicken!"

"I don't care what he—"

"Well I do! I'm not chicken, and curse anyone who says I am!"

"Arrell, watch your mouth—" But the little girl had already stormed off. His shoulders slumped as those of a weary parent, then he raised them back up and ran after her. He was only fifteen, but he took it upon himself to keep his mischievous and tomboy sister in line as their parents were busy leading the ever-toiling life of peasant farmers. Now he felt years beyond his age as he ran off in search of Arrell, who was bound to be in deep trouble later.

He found her dangerously close to their home, in the loft of the family's barn out back of the house. She was sitting in the midst of some hay bales with her knees drawn up to her chest, sulking as ten-year-olds sometimes do, with a tiny candle flickering low beside her.

"Arrell," he called softly as he walked over to her and sat down beside her.

She whimpered despite herself. "Please don't tell Mama and Papa," she whispered softly, her voice muffled as she had her face buried in her knees.

He acted like he didn't hear her. "What did you hit him for?" he asked gently, yet reprovingly.

She raised her head. "I told you. He called me chicken!"

"That's not what I mean. What purpose did you think hitting him would serve?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think he changed his mind just because you hit him? Or do you think he still thinks you're afraid?"

A pause. She looked away, chastised.

"Did you hitting him change anything?"

"Well…no…" She looked back at him. "I'm sorry." A tear slid down her cheek despite her best attempts to stop it.

He smiled gently at her. "I won't tell Papa or Mama." She giggled as he pulled a piece of straw from her wheat-colored hair. Then he sterned. "But I won't lie for you if they find out. You'll be on your own then." She nodded, then yawned. He lifted her up by her arms. "We need to go in now. It's late and Mama will be worried."


	2. More Than Stories

Chapter 2  
More Than Stories 

Estor and Arrell had slipped in and gone to bed without much trouble from their usually stern parents. But the next day brought trouble for Arrell. It was late afternoon and she had come in from the precious playtime that came after hours of work on their family's farm. Her father, mother, and brother were sitting around the table waiting for her to come in so they could eat when she burst into the house. She knew by the looks on the faces of her parents that she was in some kind of trouble (though not too much of an unusual occurrence for her).

"Is…something…the matter?" she asked hesitantly as she slowly sat down.

Her mother sat tight-lipped as her father spoke with the same barely-controlled calm Estor had used the last night. "Your mother spoke with the parents of your _friend _Eredor today. Might you be able to guess what they discussed?"

Arrell, who knew what it meant to be in trouble all too well, looked to Estor for support, and when he shook his head as if to say _You're on your own now. _She swallowed fearfully. " I suppose that would be…that…I…hit…him?" she asked with fearful reluctance.

"Why did you do it?" her mother demanded, coming very close to shouting.

"Because…he…called me…" She trailed off.

"He called you _afraid_!" Her mother spat the word out. "His mother told me. And what kind of a reason would that be? No reason at all! I simply cannot believe that you would do such a thing! And Estor? Where were you? Why weren't you there to keep your sister in line?"

"Mama, leave Estor out of this! It—"

"Child, watch your tone!" Her father interceded. "We are going to eat this meal in peace. And after we're through…Arrell, you and I are going to the woodshed."

About an hour later Estor came out to the woodshed where Arrell was standing, though he noted she was not sitting. Before he could speak, she turned to him angrily.

"Why didn't you say anything? You just sat there and-"

"Arrell, I told you. I wasn't going to lie for you, and the only way to help you was to do just that. You got in trouble on your own, you know."

She sighed. "I know. It just helps to have someone to blame it on."

He smiled at her ten-year-old logic. "I know. It helps for me too. But anyway, Papa wanted me to come out here and see if you wanted to go up to Farmer Eodren's with him to pick up some feed. He's leaving in a few minutes."

"I guess so…" She looked away, and out of the corner of her eye she saw someone coming towards them. It was Eredor.

"Arrell! Hey Arrell, Mama said your mama was mad and that she was going to give you a whipping! Well, I still think you're scared! I still think so! I-" He stopped when Arrell started towards him, but his taunting continued when he saw that Estor stopped her and she wasn't going anywhere.

"Eredor, go home." Estor's voice was firm, and the intimidated little boy turned to walk away. Just as he got up to the gate (still taunting), Arrell broke free of her brother's grip and ran up to Eredor, giving him a good shove before taking off in the opposite direction: towards the forest. She hollered back angrily, "I'll show you I'm not scared!"

Estor started after her, then gave up. Contrary to the children's beliefs, the forest was perfectly safe, and he knew she would come home when she got hungry.

Arrell ran tirelessly across the quarter of a mile of plains in between the village and the forest, muttering to herself. "I'll show him! I'll show them all and there's nothing anybody can do about it! I'm not afraid!"

She got to the edge of the woods, then hesitated before stepping inside. She held her head up, though she cast cautious glances this way and that, and walked through the thick forest. She continued muttering. "He's just scared himself! I don't even believe the stories. I don't even…" She was starting to get tired. All the running and muttering was wearing her out. There not being a place to sit on the ground that wasn't muddy, she grabbed the lowest tree limb she could find, and hoisted herself up. She climbed higher and higher, wondering if she could get to the top and how far she could see. Soon, though, she just sat down on a limb, panting. She rested a minute, muttering again. "They aren't real. They couldn't be real. They're just stories that old man makes up so we can have something to do besides work. _Ents _don't exist! They're just-" She stopped short. Did that tree just move? It must have been a squirrel. She relaxed, then all of a sudden, an eye popped open in front of her _On the tree. _Another eye. She did the only thing a ten-year-old could do. She screamed.

She tried to scramble down, but a huge hand, looking strangely like a branch, came out of nowhere and gently grabbed her and held her in place.

"What is this?" A slow, booming voice rumbled. "A man-child, all the way out here in my forest? _Hrum, Hoom_. This I have not seen for an age."

"A-are you-are you an _ent?"_ She stuttered.

"Hm! That I am, little man-child." The tree started to say more, but she spoke.

"What are you going to do to me?"

"_Burarum! _You are a hasty little one, aren't you! But I am not going to harm you. I am called Weatherroot in your tongue. But as you are in _my_ forest, under _my _branches, I think it is you who ought to tell me about yourself. What is your name, and why are you all the way out here, muttering to yourself about me and my kin not being real?"

And so Arrell spent the better part of the afternoon getting over her initial fright and learning all she could about this strange race.


	3. Irresponsible

Chapter 3  
Irresponsible 

One beautiful spring afternoon five years later, a brown horse could be seen galloping across the plain with a tall, blonde teenage girl on its back towards the forest ahead. The girl was indeed Arrell, now fifteen years old. She was on her way to visit a very good friend.

Tying up her horse and stepping into the forest, she called out, "Weatherroot! _Weatherroot! _I know you're around here someplace! Don't make me have come all this way for naught-" Just then, she heard a lot of banging and thrashing around as a huge tree-like form walked up to her.

"I am here, hasty one! I am here. Now what did you come here disturbing my song for? I was singing, you know."

"I didn't hear. All I heard was a lot of grating and rumbling around."

"Yes, that was me_. Hm, Hoom_. Do you want to hear it? It may take a while, _burarum_. A lovely piece, made by the entwives long, long ago." He began "singing," though it sounded like…well, what a tree would sound like if it could talk. She never tired of hearing the Old Entish, though, it was a beautiful sound that very few living had ever heard.

For the past five years, she and the ent had been very close friends. She would go to the woods and listen to him for hours telling tales, both pleasant and dark, singing songs of ages past, and learning from him about all manner of things. He had even introduced her to several other ents, whom she found fascinating. She would sneak off to the forest as much as she could, even at night when she was supposed to be sleeping. She never got caught. It was harder to find time as she got older, since recently she had begun an apprenticeship with the village blacksmith and working took up a lot of her time. But this was one of the rare days when she did find time to visit her friend.

After he finished his song, they talked for hours. But soon the sun began setting and she knew she would be expected for dinner soon. She excused herself and mounted her horse, then took of across the pasture, leaving her tree-like friend shaking his head at this hasty girl.

When Arrell got up to her house, her mother was at the gate waiting for her. "Where have you been? We've been waiting for you for fifteen minutes!"

Even though she was fifteen years old, she still had the tomboyish knack for getting into trouble. "I was up on the hill," she lied. "I lost track of time."

"Well, go inside and wash up! And be quick about it," her mother said, swatting Arrell on the behind with the large spoon in her hand as she passed.

At the dinner table, more trouble awaited Arrell. Her father cleared his throat, and she looked at him expectantly. "The smithy said you didn't show up at the forge this morning."

"I had work today? But I thought-"

"Arrell, you knew you had work today. I don't understand why you can't keep up with these things! I think something needs to be done to teach you to be more responsible."

Those were the exact words he had used right before he landed her the job working at the forge almost a year ago. The job required a lot of physical strength and she was the only female she knew of in the trade, but it was better than toiling in the field with her family all day. Still, she would rather have done what she wanted to do, which was work with some of the young men raising and training horses to sell to the capitol, Edoras like her brother Estor did. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what her father had in mind this time. So she started talking quickly.

"I'm really sorry. It won't happen again. I promise I'll go every day from now on, and I'll even go on my day off if you want me to. It's just that we had talked about him giving me today off, and I thought he had decided-"

"All right, Arrell. All right. Just don't let it happen again, and by all means, stop chattering and let me eat in peace!"

She looked down, relieved. "Yes, sir."

Later that night, when she was on her way to the loft where she slept, she heard her brother and her father talking. It was her brother's voice she heard first.

"…you just need to give her some time. She just needs to grow up a little, and she'll do that eventually."

"But Estor, we were going through this same kind of thing five years ago, only she didn't have the same kind of responsibilities she has now. What do you want me to do, take away all her responsibilities until she "grows up a little?" She's not going to learn anything that way!"

"Just give her time," Estor reiterated.

"Sometimes I wonder if she'll ever grow up!"

Arrell hurried up to her room. She wasn't hurt by their comments, but she was mad. Out of habit, she started talking to herself as she got ready for bed. She heard Estor coming up, and immediately shut her mouth and slipped unto bed.

"So why didn't you go to work today?" Estor asked as he blew out the lamp then got into his own bed on the other side of the room.

She spoke through gritted teeth. "I _told _you, I thought he gave me today off. Of course, why does it matter to you since you think I need to grow up anyway?"

He grimaced when he figured out that she had heard the conversation between him and their father. "Arrell, we just meant that sometimes-"

"Whatever you say, Estor." She rolled over with a huff with her back to him, and he let it go. He shook his head and wondered if maybe her father was right, maybe she never would mature.


	4. Trouble

A/N: I am incredibly sorry about the wait! I had some technical issues with my computer and it was hard for me to update. But here it is, and I hope you enjoy! Please review!

Chapter 4  
Trouble

_Clang._

_Clang._

_Clang-SHING-clang._

Arrell wiped the sweat off her face, then went back at the piece of red-hot metal she was working on with a vengeance. Her brother had caught her sneaking out to go to the forest last night after their less-than-friendly goodnight, and he had brought it up again this morning. They had exchanged words that they both regretted, and when they had parted for their respective jobs, they had resolved nothing. She shook her head, trying to forget about it, but banging an axe head with a hammer was fairly mindless work, and she continued talking to herself.

"It's not fair."

_Clang._

"He thinks he's so perfect."

_Clang._

"Why can't he see that I'm trying…"

_Clang-SHING"_

She stopped abruptly when she saw someone at the door of the small forge. It was Eredor, the torment of her childhood. Since those ten-year-old days, they hadn't come very far, but at least now they pretty much left each other alone. She groaned. If he had heard her whining to herself, she knew he would never let her hear the end of it, and her brother wasn't here to hold her back. Still, she reminded herself that she was on the job, so she kept her attitude professional, and she looked him square in the face. "Can I help you?" she asked in a tone that resembled polite.

"Mare needs shoeing," he replied curtly. She nodded and followed him outside. As she was working on the horse, she started to make small talk. "Sure is sunny today."

He nodded.

"I wonder how much longer it'll last before winter comes."

This time he grunted in response.

"I hear it's going to be a hard one."

He didn't even acknowledge his comment this time. She was getting annoying!

She sighed. As hard as she was trying to be professional and mature, she couldn't resist. "Somebody's in a bad mood."

He glared at her.

By this time he had officially gotten under her skin. "Look, I'm sorry for trying to be polite! You could at least make an effort!" Her sarcastic tone did little to encourage him to be civil.

"You should know about being polite," he said under his breath.

She looked him up and down, wishing she were still a child, so she could knock the living daylights out of him. But now, she knew at least that she was too old for that sort of thing. No doubt he would end up on top anyway. At sixteen, he was hardly a scrawny little boy anymore, and well over six feet tall with a muscular build. She rolled her eyes and went to work on the shoe again. Though her back was to him, she felt his eyes on her, watching her every move. She shook her head and ignored the feeling. She didn't expect him to speak again, so she jumped when he did.

"You've been going to the forest a lot lately." It sounded more like an accusation than an observation.

She whirled around to face him. "How do you know?"

"I've seen you. After you're done here, sometimes you'll take your horse and ride as fast as you can across the plain.

She shrugged, trying to mask her alarm. "So?"

"I've even seen you sneak out at night."

Her eyes widened.

"Or, at least, I assume you're sneaking, since you crawl out of the window."

"You've been spying! I could have you arrested for that"

"Oh, I haven't been spying," he interrupted. "just observing. If you don't want anyone to know, you should be more careful." He shrugged. "Anyway, why should I care how much time you spend in the forest? I was just making conversation."

She relaxed then, until he laughed. "You were always the one that wasn't afraid of the forest, even when the rest of us were," he said. "What's in there that the rest of us don't see?"

"Oh, I guess I just get tired of the plain sometimes. It's nice to have a change," she lied as she finished the shoe. "She's done."

"Oh. Thanks," he said, then led the mare away.

She went back to work on the axe head, but kept thinking about their conversation, which had been the closest thing to civil they had had as long as they had known each other. About an hour after Eredor left, she looked up to see she had another visitor.

It was Estor. "Hey."

"Hey."

He walked on into the forge. "Arrell?"

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry about this morning."

Her expression softened. "Me too."

He walked over to her and hugged his sister, their earlier argument reconciled.

Later that afternoon, she went straight from the forge to the forest. She would be able to stay a little longer than usual, since her mother was going to wait a while to fix dinner. Both her father and Estor would be at the town hall in a meeting with all the men and wouldn't be back till well after dinner.

The minute she arrived at the wood's edge and tied up her horse, she knew something was wrong. "Weatherroot?" she called. "Quickbeam? Leaflock?" None of her friends answered. Then she turned suddenly as she heard a rumbling behind her that could only be one of her friends. "Quickbeam! Is something wrong?"

"You must forgive us. We were, mmm, talking." The young ent sighed and shook his huge, tree-like head. "I'm afraid a terrible threat is upon the forest of Fangorn. The other ents and I, we were calling together the, mmm, _Entmoot._"

She had heard her friends talk about the gathering before, but never in the five years she'd known the ents had she seen them actually have it before. "Well, what's wrong, my friend? Is there something I can do?"

"It seems that there is one among the wizards who is corrupt, Dilamanthir I believe he is called." He then proceeded to tell her of the wizard's intentions. Apparently he, to the oblivion of the other wizards, intended to build a fortress, a sentient one, and to do this he needed the strength of will of the ents. "He plans to harvest us like wheat, _burarum!_" He then rambled on angrily in the language of the tree-herders, until she interrupted.

She took a minute to digest what he had said. It sickened her to think of it. "Well, whatever's to be done? Surely we can do something to stop him!" She made to continue, but he stopped her.

"That is what we called the _Entmoot _for! Here, come with me." With that, suddenly, he picked her up in a giant branchy hand, and before she could even respond, he whirled around, ever hasty (for an ent, at least), and with long strides proceeded deeper into the forest.

When they arrived, he set Arrell down right in front of the "leader" of the ents, Treebeard. She had heard them speak of the great ent, but had never actually met him. Now she was more than a little intimidated, but she refused to let that stop her. Before Treebeard could say anything, she had an idea. "What if I persuaded my people to help?"

To her surprise, Treebeard laughed. "You are more hasty than they said you were! _Hm, hoom. _We thank you for your intentions, but…mmm…I do not believe those who don't even know about us will so hastily come to our aid, _burarum._ I"

"But I can get them to, if you'll just let me! We could slip up behind the single wizard, and put an end to this before he even knew what hit him! Just let me try!"

He stood perfectly still, and for a moment, she wondered if he had even heard her. Just then, Weatherroot spoke up for her. "We would do well to trust her. My friends, are we just to sit and await our doom, when there may be something she could do?" A great roar welled up as other ents murmured their agreement.

Treebeard sighed. "Go, hasty man-child. We will--" But before he could even finish, she was already darting towards the edge of the woods to her horse, leaving the ents laughing and shaking their heads despite the threat that loomed over them like a cloud.


End file.
